Fiat Lux
by Athaeth
Summary: Lies. Manipulation. Death. Family. Hell. Magic. Hunting. Hiding. Running. Faith.  Harry knows his life is far from perfect, but he never knew that the one person he trusted more than anyone else lied to him. He left him in Hell on Earth, so Harry leaves.
1. Chapter 1

The sunset over the lake that was at the very heart of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was one of the most magnificent in the world. Very few people would see it, however, as only those gifted with magic could attend the school. Even those that could attend the esteemed school rarely paid the sunset any attention at all, merely taking it for granted. One person that was sure to always watch the sunset was Albus Dumbledore.

He was currently stood at a window in his round office, watching as the sun turned the water a deep red which shimmered pink occasionally. He had been stood in this tranquil pose for over 10 minutes, watching as the fiery orb slowly disappeared below the horizon. It was in these moments of calmness that his most brilliant and revolutionary thoughts came to him. He gave a sigh of contentment and had a fleeting thought that all would not be like this for much longer if Voldemort continued his rampage through the wizarding world.

The moment of serenity was interrupted, however, when the door to his office slammed forcefully open and banged into the wall. He turned quickly to see who it was that barged into his office and was taken aback by the sight that reached him. Harry Potter stood before him, still in his school robes from his day of lessons, even though lessons had ended hours ago. Harry was glaring at Dumbledore, his eyes like cold chips of emeralds. He had an expression of pure fury on his face, and he radiated rage in intense waves.

"What the hell is this?" Harry snarled at Dumbledore, throwing a book down onto his desk. Dumbledore swiftly sat down behind his desk and quickly scanned the page that Harry was so infuriated about. He immediately recognised that the book was Lily's diary, which she had started in her fifth year, just as the war was really reaching its violent peaks. He skimmed the page and saw what it was that had upset Harry, and paled.

"Harry, I think you should calm down and we can talk about this reasonably." Dumbledore tried to get Harry to calm down, as he had no desire to see his office once again in pieces like last year when Harry was upset about Sirius' death.

Harry threw himself into a chair in front of the desk and turned his cold glare onto Dumbledore. He took a deep breath and composed himself, even though Dumbledore could still feel the rage rolling off of him. "I have spent the last year struggling to fit in all my school work as well as all the training that you have decided to finally teach me. I have to fit school and Quiditch around physical exercise with Tonks, spell work and duelling with Moody, occulmensy and legilimensy with Snape and random Auror training with Shacklebolt." Harry leaned forward and hissed at Dumbledore, "When I agreed to this training shortly after Sirius died, you told me that you were hiding nothing else from me. I _asked! _And you said no!"

"Harry… I thought it best that you did not know. It doesn't make a difference if you were to know or not."

"Not make a difference?" Harry stabbed a finger at the diary. "I explicitly ask you if there is anything else life-changing about me that you have failed to mention and you say no! I have to find something like this out from my dead mother's diary." Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, but Harry beat him to it, hissing in a deadly voice, "Don't you dare say it. No matter what, I don't blame my mother. Being genetically related to a child doesn't make you a parent, as my mother states in her diary."

Dumbledore offered Harry a smile, which wasn't returned. "Now Harry, I would never say such a thing. I know that Lily's parents loved her very much, even if they weren't her real parents. Now summer starts in a few weeks, and whilst you are here, we may as well talk about arrangement for the escort to your relatives…"

Harry, whose anger had lessoned slightly as Dumbledore had spoken about his parents, looked up incredulously. His fury returned in full impact. "What? I have to go back to those people? I now know that I am not related to them in any way whatsoever. Living there offers no protection at all."

"Be that as it may, Voldemort does not know this. The house will offer some protection as long as he believes that wards are in place."

"All these years you have sent me to that hell, where they hate and neglect me, knowing that there are no wards and that I could have been killed all this time? You disgust me." Harry stood up quickly, taking his mother's diary with him. "I refuse to go back. And I refuse to allow myself to be manipulated any longer. I am leaving."

Harry made his way to the door and wretched it open. "We will talk about this tomorrow when you have calmed down some more Harry." Dumbledore watched as Harry's hand stilled on the door handle and he became rigid. Dumbledore thought that Harry would turn around and apologise to him for talking in a disrespectful tone, but when Harry turned around, there was a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Oh, I don't think so. You see, I'm leaving. As in leaving the school for a while. Tonight. I can't believe someone I trusted so much would manipulate my entire life and not even regret it."

Dumbledore was flabbergasted. "But what about Voldemort! And school. Next year is your seventh and final year. It is important!"

"I'm sure I will be ok. After all, I have survived Voldemort for the last 16 years and he won't know where I have gone. Here at Hogwarts, he knows exactly where I am. As for school, I will probably come back in September. Or maybe not. I don't care anymore." Harry gave Dumbledore one last glare and mock saluted him as he slammed the door behind him, leaving Dumbledore speechless.

* * *

Harry leaned against the wall in his dorm room. He took a deep breath to calm himself and hugged his mother's diary closer. He knew that it didn't matter that Lily was adopted. Her parents had loved her, and had taken her in and given her a loving home. Lily had loved them more than anything else in the world, and they would always be her parents in her mind, as she stated in her diary. What hurt was that Dumbledore has known all along, and had lied to him and still sent him to the Dursley's. Harry had asked him when Dumbledore first told him about the training he was going to start whether there was anything else he should know. And the old man had said no. Now this had all come out!

Harry pushed himself off the wall and pulled a backpack out of his trunk. He began to shove muggle clothes into it. He had finally gotten rid of the old cast-offs that the Dursley's had so kindly provided him with. During his training in the summer after Sirius' death, Hermione had dragged him shopping for new clothes, and despite his expectation of hating the day, he found himself thoroughly enjoying himself. As Hermione said, he never had a chance to shop or buy anything for himself growing up, so having new clothes and looking well dressed was something she had expected him to enjoy.

After he had shoved a selection of jeans and t-shirts into the bag, Harry contemplated what else to bring with him. He had already changed into muggle jeans and a shirt, and so his wand was in an invisible holster in his arm, curtsey of Moody. After debating, he placed the leather bound photo album of him and his parents and photos of him, Ron and Hermione inside the bag beneath his clothes. He also fitted in his gym clothes, with every intention of carrying on with his training.

Since the start of last summer, Dumbledore had Harry doing all kinds of training to aid him in defeating Voldemort. Members from the Order were brought in on it so that they could help teach Harry a variety of different topics. It was now the start of April, only two and a half months until the summer holidays, and Harry was nearly unrecognisable. He had gotten rid of his glasses just before Christmas because Moody kept disarming him by breaking them and then proceeding to give Harry hour long lectures on why he should just get his eyes fixed by an expert mediwizard. He had given in eventually and found that it wasn't as bad as he thought. Now that he got used to it, he found that he liked being able to see clearly.

At first, the training had all been about magic, but then Tonks had mentioned how appalling how most wizards fitness level was and how all you had to do was wait until they wore themselves out in a duel. This had led to Dumbledore insisting Tonks train Harry in physical exercise methods. Everyday, Harry was expected to do at least an hour of exercise.

Having placed everything he intended to take with him into the backpack, Harry sank down to the floor next to his trunk and cradled his head in his hands. Everything was falling apart. First Voldemort rises, then Sirius dies and now this. Harry had no idea what he should do. He just needed to get away from it all for a while – away from all the lies and expectations that everyone seemed to have for him. Harry thought for a moment and impulsively chose a destination from the top of his head. For now, he would stick in the muggle world. Dumbledore, for all his ideals on how muggleborns and muggles are equal to wizards in everyway, had no idea about the muggle world at all and wouldn't know where to start looking for Harry.

Feeling tears prick at his eyes when he thought about Dumbledore's lies and manipulation, Harry quickly wrote a note to his two best friends, explaining that he needed time to think and make some decisions. He told them he might see them next September on the Hogwarts Express but he wasn't sure, and could they please take good care of Hedwig and the rest of the stuff in his trunk until he asked them to send them to him or he saw them again. Sadness coloured with determination settled on Harry as he left the note on Ron's bed and left the dorms without looking back.

* * *

A month. That was how long Harry had been travelling around the United States of America. It had started with a small trip to see the Grand Canyon and Harry had found that he loved the open space available in America, and how he could travel around easily and without anyone paying the smallest amount of notice to him. He loved the feeling of normality it gave him. He hadn't felt at peace in so long.

Harry also got a lot of time to practice his magic. The USA had relaxed laws on the use of magic, and as long as no magic was used in front of muggles who didn't know about the magical world or who weren't related to a witch or wizard, then Harry could use it, even though he was still a few months away from becoming legally an adult in the magical world. This gave Harry scope to practice as much as he wanted, although he avoided other witches and wizards as much as possible, in case one recognised him.

Travelling around also wasn't a problem. Harry had learnt how to apparate last year at school, and whilst he couldn't get his license until he was 17, he could still use it in emergencies. Because of this, Harry set about trying to find other ways to travel around the muggle world. Harry knew all about cars and motorbikes because of living with the Dursley's for the last sixteen years. He knew that in England, he had to be at least 17 before he could get his license, but he found that in the US he only had to be 16. Harry had taken lessons and then using magic, he faked himself a driving license in case he got pulled up by the police. At every city, Harry rented himself a car or a bike – he normally went with the bike though. He loved the feeling he got when driving it, it was almost like flying.

No matter what, he still couldn't stop thinking about what he had read about in his mother's diary. It wasn't that he didn't love Lily, or that he didn't respect the fact that his mother hadn't wanted to find her biological parents, he just wanted to find out where she came from, and if he had any living relatives. It was with this motivation in mind that he set about researching his family, using the tiny bits of information that his mother had known and had wrote into her diary. He was good at research, but not as good as Hermione.

* * *

Bobby Singer looked at the two young men in front of him. The younger was tall, around 6'4, with light brown hair and soulful brown eyes. The elder was slightly shorter and had a different, darker shade of brown hair and pale green eyes. Just looking at them, Bobby could tell that they were brothers.

Dean was acting his normal self, but underneath Bobby could see the pain and doubt. Sam had told him everything that had happened with ghosts and how guilty the two brothers felt. Both brothers were hurt and emotionally run down, so Bobby had insisted that they stay with him for a while and refused to allow them onto another hunt.

"Hey Bobby, you got any food in this house at all?" Dean grumbled, ransacking the kitchen cupboards.

"You two eat so much, I have to do another load of shopping. You'll eat me out of business." Bobby's tone was one of reproach, but his smile told the two brothers that he was amused. Dean opened his mouth to retort playfully when there was a knock on the door. All three men looked at one another. "Go into the living room. It could be a customer and you two are supposed to be dead felons remember?"

Sam nodded and dragged his older brother with him. They closed the door into the living room and settled in front of a monitor that was hooked up to the CCTV camera system that Bobby kept in his house. He may act paranoid, but all hunters had to be in order to survive.

As soon as the door to the living room closed tightly, Bobby made his way to the door that opened straight into the kitchen. He had no idea who was behind it – it could have been a customer for the mechanics yard attached to his house, another hunter or a demon straight out of hell.

Taking a deep breath, Bobby pulled open the door. Stood before him was a teenager, aged anywhere between 16 and 19, Bobby couldn't tell. He had black hair that was messed up, intentionally or not, and bright green eyes. He wasn't overly tall, just reaching six foot in height, but he still looked down on Bobby slightly. There was a nervous air about him that made Bobby relax. But only slightly.

Before Bobby could speak, the boy beat him to it. "Erm, hi. Are you Bobby Singer, the owner of this mechanics yard?" His voice was deep and soft and was distinctly British.

Bobby narrowed his eyes and simply said "Yes."

The boy in front of him gave a relieved smile. "Oh good. Would it be possible for me to come inside? What I want to discuss is a little bit strange."

Bobby gave the boy a once over again. He was wearing simple jeans, t-shirt and a jacket, yet they looked well made and hinted at designer. Not sure what the make of the boy, Bobby merely moved aside and indicated to the boy that he should sit at the table. Slamming the door and noticing how the boy tensed, Bobby's eyebrows rose. Slipping into the seat opposite the boy, he just waited for him to speak.

After almost five minutes of silence, the boy seemed to get his nerve up. "My name's Harry Potter. I, erm, I'm here because I know that John Winchester was a part owner of your business." He stopped and looked at Bobby. Bobby noticed how the boy's – Harry's- eyes seemed to take in every detail. He sighed and continued. "I know that he had two sons – Dean and Samuel. But I also know that John Winchester had a daughter when he was 15."

Bobby's mouth fell open. "How do you know that? I'm the only one who knew about that. Not even John's sons knew!"

Harry mumbled something. He fiddled with his hands for a moment and when he looked up, Bobby could the anxiety clearly in Harry's features. "My parents died when I was a baby, and so I only got their personal things when I turned sixteen last year. One thing was my mother's diary." Harry looked away and stared at the wall. "She found out she was adopted when she was a teenager. She did some research and found out her biological mother was on holiday in the States when she met John Winchester. As soon as my mother was born, she was put up for adoption. My biological grandmother got married years later and had a family, but they all died in a car crash."

Bobby nodded to Harry to continue when he stopped and caught his eye. Harry immediately began to babble. "My mother had some friends in law and politics, and my father comes from an old family. They hired some people to research my mother's adoption to see if they could find my biological grandfather's name. They tracked down the original sealed records. They managed to get them unsealed and found that John Winchester was the biological father of my mother, Lily Evans." Harry stopped and looked at his hands.

Bobby's brain took a moment to catch up. When it did, he was shocked. "Are you sure? I mean they could have been wrong."

"No, the records are all real and legal." Harry paused and then ploughed on. "I just wanted to see if I had any family left. I researched the names and found that John and his wife Mary Winchester are dead. I thought perhaps they may have had children, and I found them but…"

Bobby looked at the teenager in front of him and knew how that sentence was going to finish. He thought Sam and Dean were dead. Dead felons wanted by the FBI to be exact. He was dragged out of his thought when Harry continued talking. "I know that all my relatives are dead, but I found that John Winchester owned the business with you. I don't know why I'm here actually. I just had to see _someone _who knew my biological grandfather and uncles. I should…..I should just go." Harry rose to his feet and seemed to debate with himself for a second, before slipping a piece of paper onto the table. Before Bobby could react, Harry was out of the door in seconds.

* * *

Sam and Dean sat silently throughout the exchange. There were so many thoughts going through their head. Was it true? Why were they never told that their father had been a teenage dad and had a daughter? Or was this just some demon trick, hoping to lower their guard?

"Do you think this is for real?" Sam asked his brother quietly, watching as the boy left the house on the monitor.

"I don't know. I mean, it is so surreal…. We have to be sure." Dean looked at his brother and felt an urge of overwhelming brotherly love. Dragging Sam into a hug, Dean thought about the situation. Family had always meant everything to him, and since their Dad had died and it was just him and Sammy, he had become even more determined to protect his family. If this kid was for real and he really was their nephew, Dean would make sure he did everything in his power to protect him. If he wasn't and it was some demon trick, Dean thought viciously, he would make the evil bastard pay for even thinking of hurting his family.

Even as Dean was pulling away from his brother, Bobby stomped into the room. He took one look at the brothers before presenting them with a cold beer each and took a swig of his own. "We need to talk." He threw himself into a chair opposite them and looked them over. "What that boy said was true – your Daddy had a kid when he was just a teenager. The girl ran off back to England with her family, and the only thing John ever heard was that he had a baby girl. After that, the girl never contacted him again."

"Why weren't we told?" Sam asked quietly, gripping his untouched beer tightly in his hands.

Bobby looked at him hard before answering. "Because it doesn't make a difference. Your Daddy spent years trying to find the girl and his daughter. He met your mother years later, and he told her everything. They even searched together. It wasn't until John became a Hunter and got some useful contacts that he learned that they girl had died with her entire family. John thought that included his daughter. But as that boy said, the records were sealed and your Daddy couldn't have known about the adoption. He didn't have contacts that high up."

"So this guy could actually be our nephew? It might not be a demon trick?" Dean asked, and even Sam could hear the hopeful edge in his voice.

Bobby looked at both of them long and hard. He sighed heavily, but met their gazes. "Yeah. It could be true." He turned and looked at the monitor that Dean had frozen on a certain image. The mysterious boy looked back at him from the screen. Bobby had to admit, he certainly looked like a young John Winchester.

"He has Dad's build." Dean said suddenly, staring at the image intently. Looking the teenager's face over once more, he randomly turned his intense gaze to his brother. "I – we – have to know for sure."

Sam simply nodded once and both young men turned to look hopefully at Bobby. "Alright." Bobby thought for a moment. "Here's what you should do. He gave me his cell number and the hotel that he is staying in. You should go and wait for him to leave his room and search his things to see if you can find any evidence he is telling the truth. Once you have done that, come back here and we can discuss what we are going to do either way."

* * *

The lock gave a slight click and the door opened silently, allowing the Winchester brothers entrance to the simple room. Closing the door, they looked around at the modest room that the teenager had chosen. It was decorated in simple blue and had a double bed and wardrobe. A door lead off, which Sam discovered was an ensuite bathroom. Not knowing how much time they had, because they saw the teen leave in jogging clothes and didn't know how far he ran, Sam began to search efficiently through a stack of papers that were on the bed.

"Dude, you should see some of these clothes." Sam paused and looked over at Dean, who was searching the kid's bag. "These clothes are all genuine designer – Armani, Dolce, Prada, Versace – man this must have cost a fortune!" Dean continued searching. "Hey. I've found some pictures." He held up a leather bound album and deftly flipped the cover open. There were a few pages of a dark haired man and a bright eyed woman. Dean's eyes were draw to one particular picture where the couple were gazing lovingly at a baby with messy black hair. Showing it to his brother he stated, "This must be his parents, before they died. His mom, she has green eyes like Dad's mom."

"She does look like Dad's mom, in the photos he used to show us." Sam told his brother quietly. He watched as Dean flicked to later photos in the album, which showed the teenager with various other people through the years. Returning his gaze back to the papers in front of him, he found what was obviously the diary that the kid had been telling Bobby about. He also found pages of notes the kid had printed off a computer and hand written about information he had found whilst tracking down his biological family. Shuffling them to the side, the next pieces of paper caused him to freeze.

"Dean." He said quietly. Dean looked up from his continuing search of the bag and looked at the papers in his younger brother's hand. His eyes narrowed and he sighed. Trapped in his brother's vice-like grip were black and white copies of the FBI's wanted pictures of the Winchester brothers. Even without looking at the text underneath the photos, Dean knew that they were lists of the horrible charges against them.

"Great. So now he thinks we are crazy serial killers." Dean looked his brother intently in the eye. "He really is our nephew isn't he?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I found the letters from his lawyer and copies of the official birth and adoption certificates. They are real."

"Did Dad know about him?"

Sam shook his head at hearing the anger and accusation in Dean's voice. "No. Bobby told us the truth. It's all in Lily's diary. Her biological mother gave her up in a private adoption and part of the deal was for the records to be sealed. Without contacts in seriously high places, Dad would have had no chance to find his daughter, let alone find out he had a grandson." Sam watched as relief laced his brother's features. He himself didn't know what to think or feel. He suddenly dropped the papers back onto the bed and looked at his brother. "Dean – how the hell are we going to tell him that we aren't dead and we aren't psycho killers?"

"Ah crap. I hadn't even thought about the fact that we are going to have to explain." Dean shoved the clothes and photo album back into the bag. "We should go before he gets back."

* * *

"So."

It was the third time that Bobby had said the same word and yet he still seemed unable to finish or even form the next sentence. The three men were once again sat at the table in Bobby's kitchen, clutching beers. Even Dean had been unusually quiet since the brothers had left the motel room.

"So –" Bobby repeated once again, until he was interrupted by Dean speaking for the first time since confirming that the kid was actually their brother.

"Sammy, you've done some research on the kid – Harry – and his parents. What did you find?"

Sam looked up at his brother. He had done some research on the internet as soon they had got back, but up until now neither Dean nor Bobby had asked to see any of it. He cleared is throat and said, "Well, he was born on July 31st and is 17 on his next birthday. His full name on the birth certificate is Harry James Potter. His parents were Lily and James Potter." Sam stopped and took a swig of beer, reluctant to continue.

"Dude, just tell me." Dean clenched his fist, his eyes boring into his younger brother's.

Sam swallowed hard. "His parents – Lily and James Potter- were killed in a house explosion when he was a baby. The whole house was a ruin and it's a miracle that he survived. Having no other relatives, he was given to his aunt – his mother's adopted sister - who lives in Surrey. Everything is normal until he was shipped off to a boarding school registered in Scotland when he was 11. I also found that he was emancipated in April. His aunt and uncle signed the forms and Harry now has complete control over the Potter family estate."

Dean looked away from his brother, deep in thought. Their young nephew lost his parents when he was a baby and was then shoved with an aunt who seemed to not care about him and got rid of him in boarding school as soon as she could. At least he and Sammy had their Dad most of time when he wasn't on a hunt. Suddenly, something Sammy had said clicked.

"Did you say estate?"

Sam nodded. "The Potter family is an old English family that can be traced back hundreds of year. Over that time, they have gathered quite a large number of businesses and property, as well as a large bank account. Several large bank accounts, in fact. Harry is the last Potter so he gained control of it all when he was legally declared an adult when he was emancipated."

"Well, that explains the expensive clothes and things we found in his room." Dean smiled at his brother. "Like that matters. I still can't get over the fact that we have a naphew who is a Brit." Sam laughed at Dean's poor attempt at a joke. Even he had to admit that it was kind of strange. Dean beamed at him and turned to Bobby. "Could you call him and invite him over so we can try to explain to him? The sooner we do it the better."

Bobby pulled out his cell phone and began dialling the number that Harry had given to him. "I suppose there really is no way to soften the news that you aren't dead and that you're not homicidal crazy people." Bobby hit the louder speaker button and laid the phone onto the table. As it rang, they all held their breath.

"Hello?"

Bobby let out the breath he was holding and began to speak in a polite voice. "Hi Harry. It's Bobby. I was wondering if you wanted to come 'round and we can talk. I'm sorry about earlier – you caught me by surprise. We can talk about anything you want. I thought you might have some questions that I can answer."

The phone was silent. Dean glanced over at Sam and saw his own hope was reflected in his brother's puppy dog eyes. "Ok. I'll stop around. I do have some questions about my family that you might be able to answer for me. See you in a while."

The phone cut off and Bobby looked up at the two brothers. They both had mirrored expression that Bobby couldn't work out. "You two ok?"

"Yeah." Sammy still looked kind of dazed as he answered. "He called us his family."

Dean gave a goofy smile before snapping out of his daze. "We, erm, should make some coffee or something. He'll be here soon."

The three men were discussing how they should break it the kid when a knock at the door broke into their conversation. Sam and Dean stiffened and gripped the beers they had been nursing for hours even tighter. They relaxed slightly when Bobby rose and opened the door.

Harry stood in the doorway to the house where it opened into the kitchen and looked at the man before him. He really hoped that this Bobby could tell him something, _anything,_ about his biological family. When he had first found out that he had uncles, he was so excited. But that didn't last long when he found out they were dead.

"Hi." Harry smiled at the man in front of him, grateful that he was helping Harry to understand his dead biological grandfather and uncles. He shifted his gaze off the man and saw two other men sat at the table, their backs to the doorway so Harry could only see the back on their heads. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise that you had company. I can come back later."

Bobby smiled at the teen before him. He was immediately charmed by the accent and pretty British manners that he was showing. "Don't be silly. They are here to help me explain about your family." He smiled at Harry.

Sam gave a sidelong glance at Dean, who seemed to be using all his self will not to turn around. Dean gave him a reassuring smile as they heard Harry and Bobby slowly approach the table that they were sat at. Sam reluctantly let go of his beer and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans before clutching his hands together in front of him on the table.

As they approached the table, Harry gave Bobby a genuine smile. He loved his parents but that didn't mean he couldn't find out where his mother came from and what kind of family he had, even if she hadn't wanted to. Sure, he had done his research, and some of the information that had turned up turned out to be less than perfect, but that was different to meeting people who knew the real Winchesters.

As Harry was deep in thought, Bobby had carefully taken a seat on the other side of the two strangers, who still had their backs to Harry, and was looking at him expectantly. Harry slipped into the remaining chair and looked up at the two other men. The polite greeting that was on his lips died instantly.

Harry was now looking at two dead men. But that wasn't what shocked him – hell, he went to a school where it was normal for a ghost to float past during breakfast. What shocked him was that they weren't ghosts and looked very much alive.

Dean could see the confusion on the kid's face as he looked between him and Sammy. He didn't blame the kid and wasn't surprised by it. He was stunned, however, when Harry's gaze froze like ice and he spat out, "What the hell is this?" His entire body was tense and he was clenching his fists.

"Listen, we only want to talk to you." Sam held up his hands to show that he meant no harm. "I know that this must be really confusing for you – I mean Dean and I are supposed to be dead."

Dean looked intently at the teenager in front of him as he slowly relaxed. "So," Harry's voice was unemotional, "you two somehow convinced the FBI that you are dead – twice."

"Erm, well," Sam looked over to his older brother for help. This wasn't going the way they wanted it to.

"Look kid, we aren't the crazy criminals that the FBI thought we were. There are some things you don't know." Dean said in a controlled voice.

Harry looked between the two of them, disbelief evident on his face. "What is there to know? You were suspected of being a serial killer, on top of multiple charges of horrible crimes like grave desecration."

"We're not who you think we are!" Dean could hear the desperate edge to his brother's voice. There was a soft thud as Sam let his head fall onto the table. The noise caused Harry to tense again and push his chair away from the table.

"That's it. I'm leaving." Harry stood and moved away from the trio at the table. "It was a bad idea anyway." He gave a humourless laugh. "I mean, trying to get to know my dead criminal family is one thing. Becoming part of their sick world is another."

"Wait!" Dean stood and gripped Harry's shoulder. The next moment, he found himself on his back on the hard floor. He had to admit that despite the circumstances, he was impressed with Harry's speed and skill in defending himself. "Ow, shit! That hurt!"

Harry let go of Dean and backed away. The brothers and Bobby could see his eyes widen as he saw that they were between him and the exit. His body tensed and he eyed them all wearily. Dean picked himself up off the floor and rubbed his shoulder where it had slammed into the floor.

"Look kid, we aren't going to hurt you." Sam looked desperately at his older brother, who was looking Harry up and down in an appraising way. Even Sam had to admit he was impressed with him. Not many people could knock Dean to the floor in one swift move.

"No." Harry shook his head. "I left England in the first place to escape people who manipulated and lied to me about who I was. I don't care if you are my relatives; I refuse to get involved in your strange beliefs and fantasies."

"Beliefs and fantasies? What are you talking about?" Dean asked nervously. "I think you have got us wrong kid."

"I've read the FBI file." Harry said quietly. "I know that you both suffer from delusions about demons."

"Look, there are some things in the world that you don't know about. Sometimes the things that go bump in the night are real." Bobby said bluntly. Seeing the disapproving glares from Sam and Dean, he retorted, "He needs to know and it is best to explain now before he tells the Feds that you are here."

A laugh broke into their argument before it could even start. "Sure, you have seen the things that scare little children before bed. Like I believe that mugg- that _people_ like you have ever met these so-called creatures." Harry gave another sarcastic laugh but inwardly cursed himself for his slip of tongue. He knew that creatures existed, but how could muggles have found out about them? It was possible, but he had read the FBI file on the two brothers and some of it was pretty gruesome. Harry continued his effort in looking for an escape route. He backed further away from the three men in the room, who had edged closer still. "Name something you have hunted and how you would stop it and I might consider believing you." Harry threw at them sarcastically. He didn't want to hear anymore of their sick fantasies, but when he was annoyed or nervous, his sarcastic side came out.

The brothers glanced at each other. Sam sighed and turned towards his newly discovered young nephew. "A vampire." He blurted out.

"Everyone has heard of vampires." Harry retorted. He was considering just apparating out, but didn't want to draw the attention of the American Authorities. He would use it as a last resort.

"Yeah, but how many people could tell you that dead man's blood is lethal to them?" Dean watched the teenager before him carefully and noticed how he tensed when Dean had revealed the information about dead man's blood. He was about to ask him just what exactly he knew about the supernatural when a voice to his left sounded.

"Damn it!"

The three relatives in the room spun around to see where the sound had come from. Dean saw that Bobby had thrown himself back into his chair and was looking at Harry with sharp eyes. "I was just wondering how you knew about the supernatural, when it suddenly hit me. Your name is famous in some circles."

Sam looked between Bobby and the nephew, who was grimacing and glaring at the older Hunter. "Bobby? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Boys, you should meet your nephew. Harry James Potter, boy-who-lived, the Saviour, Chosen One. One of the most powerful beings in the world."


	2. Chapter 2

"You're a Hunter." Dean almost tripped in his shock. Harry didn't even glance at him as he took a step towards Bobby. "So, you know about me. I didn't want anyone to know. I'm supposed to be a normal person here." Harry hissed to the unfazed Hunter.

"You know about Hunters and the Supernatural?" The three men turned towards the teenager. Instead of looking shocked and disbelieving, Harry was watching the Hunters with an appraising look. Harry hesitated, before nodding.

Bobby nodded his head to Harry. "It is a pleasure to meet one of your kind. We don't get many of you in this part of the world, only a few small groups. Hunters would give their right leg to meet a good one of your kind. And you – well, the way most supernatural beings or Hunters who know about your kind talk about you, it is as though you were the second coming." Harry grimace and turned his face away from the Hunters.

"What the hell are you talking about? 'His kind', what is that supposed to mean?" Dean growled at the elder Hunter before him.

Bobby never looked away from the teenager as he answered the younger man, "There is an old myth about how his kind came to be. When the universe was created by the Lord, he created angels with the view that they would be guardians and messengers for man, whom he had yet to create. Finally, after all of the angels had been made by God, he created man, whom he loved. Yet, there was a gap between man and angel, a separation that was displeasing. So God made people like Harry." Bobby finally broke his gaze with Harry and turned to Dean and Sam. "God gave them gifts and abilities so that they were somewhere between an angel and man. These gifts are bestowed randomly, sometimes travelling in families and sometimes randomly appearing in a chosen individual."

"Yet we moved away from God as ordinary people became jealous and fearful of us." Harry still wasn't looking at anyone. He stared at his feet. "Not many people know that story. Only those of us that are Supernatural by nature, or those that are like you. Hunters."

"So, what? You're like a psychic?" Dean was confused.

"Kind of." Harry turned to his oldest uncle. "We are more powerful than the psychics you have encountered. We are essentially glorified psychics, but we call ourselves wizards and witches."

Sam heard the clicking of a gun's safety being taken off and turned to see his brother pointing a gun at the young man in front of them. Dean's gaze was hard and cold. "So, this is some sick trick to get close to us? You're just a witch that is trying to kill us! Whose demon bitch are you?"

"What?" Harry backed up and put his hands up slightly. "I'm not working for a demon! I'm telling you the truth – you are really my Uncles."

"Like I'm going to believe what a deal-witch tells me!" Dean was completely in Hunter mode. "How did you fake those documents? I'll admit that they are good copies."

"I have no idea what you are talking about!" Harry took another step back and was eying the gun carefully. Harry knew what demons were and he had studied them with Remus during the extra lessons Dumbledore had him doing. He knew that they made deals with people for their soul, but he had never heard about muggles selling their soul for magic. As far as Harry knew, a person had to be born with the ability to access the magic in nature and manipulate it. "I'm not working for a demon. I swear that I really am you nephew!"

"Dean?" Sam looked from his brother to the teenager before him, unsure about what to do. The boy looked genuine, and he had been convinced by the documents that he had found in the boy's room. Also, Bobby knew about his sister. But this kid could be a witch that had somehow come across this information and was pretending to be related to them to get close to them. The Winchesters were high up on the demonic hate list.

"Put the gun down, you idjit." Bobby had stood and was glaring daggers at the oldest Winchester brother. "If you would stop waving it about for a few minutes and come and sit down, then I could explain everything to you."

Dean looked from the teenager to Bobby. "I don't think so. Nobody is moving or going anywhere. So," Dean was addressing just the teenager now "what kind of voodoo have you done on Bobby to make him say what you want?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bobby demanded, confusion and anger on his face.

"The Bobby I know wouldn't stand around doing nothing whilst a witch was in his kitchen. He must have done something to you."

Bobby made to move forwards, but Dean stood back so that he could swiftly aim his gun at both the older Hunter and the teenager. "Stop. I don't want to hurt you Bobby. Not when you are only under a demon bitch's spell." He turned to Harry. "Take it off him right now."

Harry looked desperately between the three older men in front of him. This isn't how he imagined his first family meeting going. Well, he had thought his uncles were dead – dead serial killers to be precise – but that didn't mean he hadn't wanted to gain as much information as possible about his dead family. He had wanted to know where he came from. He hadn't imagined when he woke up that morning that he would be stood facing three Hunters, one of whom was pointing a gun at him and demanding he undo something he hadn't even done in the first place.

"I haven't done anything! I would never use my magic to do something like that!"

Dean cocked the gun and saw the teenager wince at the action. "I said undo it right now, you little bitch!"

Harry winced at the sound of the gun being cocked. He couldn't believe it – years of dodging death at the hands of Riddle and his crazy followers, and he was going to be killed by a muggle gun in the hands of his Hunter uncle. Harry was just contemplating if he could erect a shield before the bullet hit him, when he heard Dean's next words. It wasn't so much that Dean had called him 'bitch' (although that still stung) it was the tone that he used. Harry had heard that tone everyday of his miserable life at the Dursley's, from his adoptive aunt, uncle and even on occasion from his cousin. The fact that this man – Harry's real uncle, no less – was using that tone, the one with so much hatred and disdain in it, left Harry feeling hurt. But not only was Harry hurt, he was angry. This was his last chance for a real family, and they treated him the same as his abusive adopted relatives.

Harry reacted without a second thought. The gun was ripped from Dean's hands and the three Hunters were pinned against the kitchen wall. The younger two of the Hunters struggled to free themselves but were unable to move. Harry caught the gun as it flew towards him and gingerly placed it on the table. He took deep breaths to try and calm himself down. His magic had reacted automatically, using all the training he had undergone in the last year. It had broken free of his control when his emotions had been running high from Dean's 'bitch' comment.

Once his had locked his emotions into the little box in his mind (Harry reluctantly mentally thanked Snape for finally teaching him occulmensy properly) Harry turned to his would-be family, who were still pinned to the walls of the kitchen. He was about to say something – anything- to explain to them, when Dean beat him to it.

"If you hurt my brother, I'm going to kill you." Dean glared at the teenager with cold eyes.

Harry averted his gaze from the Hunter and stared sadly out of the window. "I'm not going to hurt you." He took a deep breath and shut out the intense emotional hurt he was feeling. "I'm not a witch who gained their power from a demon. I was born this way, as was my mother and father. I only came here to try and get to know the last of my family. I can see that you don't want to get to know me, so I'm just going to leave."

The three Hunters all were suddenly released and they suddenly pitched forward, not expecting to be released. Dean quickly gathered himself and stood so he was slightly in front of his brother. His gaze was met by intense green eyes that were sad.

"Don't worry; I'll never bother you again. It was nice meeting you and I'm glad that you aren't dead. I won't tell the FBI where you are and you will never see me again." Harry turned away from them and suddenly disappeared with a loud cracking sound before any of them could react.

* * *

Harry arrived back in his room and he sank to the floor, his back to the wall. Anguish that he had been suppressing became too much and he felt the hot tears trail down his face. Grief racked his body as sob after sob shook his body. Harry had never felt so alone in his life. Because that is what he now was: alone. The Dursleys had never been his family; even before he found out he wasn't related to them. Harry loved the Weasleys, they had taken him in and loved him right from the start, but they weren't his family. He still always felt on the outside when he was with them. He didn't understand most of their quirks or the inside sibling jokes that went around. They were amazing, but they weren't _his_. They weren't a family of his own that he didn't have to share with anyone. He just wanted a family that he could selfishly call his own.

Harry so desperately wanted to blame magic for all his pain in life – his parent's death, his abusive upbringing, his godfather's demise, the goddamn Dark Lord trying to kill him. And now his real family's rejection. But Harry couldn't bring himself to. Magic was pure and it was woven into every part of his being, his very soul. It was the one thing that gave Harry comfort in life. His magic was always there for him, no matter how bad the situation was. If Harry wanted something to blame, then he should blame humans for corrupting the purity of magic and twisting it into something vile and unrecognisable.

Harry's sobs died down and he was left feeling empty. He had nothing left and he had no idea what he should do. He guessed that the first thing would be to pack and leave. Dean had mentioned the documents that Harry had looked genuine, but Harry had never shown them to his uncles. They must have searched his room whilst he was out. Shaking his head to try and clear the heavy morbid thoughts, Harry pulled himself up and began to haphazardly throwing his clothing into his bag. He finally managed to stuff them all in and carefully placed his family photo album in.

Giving his room one last sweep, Harry closed the door softly behind him. He threw his bag into the trunk of his rental car and climbed into the driver's side. Harry rested his head against the steering wheel for a moment, working hard to cram his teaming emotions into the box at the back of his mind. It had been two months since he had found out about his family, yet this was all it took for his life to turn into a complete shitstorm. Pulling himself together, Harry started the engine and was determined to leave this goddamn state and to never come back.

* * *

Dean was checking his gun for any damage that the witch might have inflicted on it when he had done his weird voodoo thing. He was just about reassured that it was ok and was putting the safety back on when a hard smack to the back of his head distracted him.

"Damn it Bobby!" Dean rubbed his head and eyed the older man. "What the hell was that for?"

"That is for a complete and utter idjit." Bobby's voice rose in anger and he hit Dean around the head again for good measure.

"For God's sake Bobby, would you stop that?" Dean moved away from the angry man and watched him carefully. "I know for a fact that a witch has to be close by for their hoodoo to work, or have hex bags around. Since no witch would ever be able to plant hex bags anywhere near you and he isn't here anymore, he is no longer controlling you."

"He was never controlling me!" Bobby snarled, surprising both young men with his anger.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked the older man.

"I loved your Daddy like a brother and he was a good friend, but I always thought he was stupid in the way he raised you two and how he kept you away from other Hunters." Bobby pulled himself a beer out of his fridge and took a large swig before continuing. "If you had ever been around other Hunters, you would know everything I'm about to tell you."

Bobby sat down at the table. "The story that I mentioned is a real myth. God created powerful psychics that could manipulate nature around them. There aren't that many around, especially in this country. They may call themselves witches and wizards, but they are really just powerful psychics. The witches we kill are all just plain humans who want power. They don't have really magic or abilities. It is kind of a demons way of mocking the born witches."

"If they are real and Hunters know about them, how come we have never met any?"

Bobby took another long swig of his beer. "If ordinary people knew about them, then they would want all their problems solved. There are limits to what the psychics can do. They keep themselves hidden and keep their issues to themselves. There are only a few small groups here in the states – communities that are only a few hundred years old. In Europe, there are hidden communities of them that are centuries old. Your nephew, Harry, comes from England and the oldest community of his kind in existence."

"So, they aren't all evil?" Sam asked Bobby, biting his lip.

"They are just like ordinary humans. There are some good and some bad. They deal with their own problems and try to contain it to their own world. They have their own communities, schools, banks, shops – everything." Bobby looked at the brothers and could see their guilt. "If that boy meant you any harm, you would already be dead."

"What do you mean?"

"He is a powerful psychic with the power to manipulate nature and the environment around him. In case you have forgotten, that includes us. A few words and we would be dead in less than a second."

"That's….impressive. And slightly disturbing." Sam collapsed into the chair next to Bobby and looked over at his brother.

Sam could see the tension in his brother's posture and was about to say something when Dean suddenly slumped. "Fuck it!" Dean turned and kicked the wall. "I have totally screwed this up!"

Dean threw himself into one of the remaining chairs and buried his face in his hands. His was totally messing everything up. It was bad enough that he kept getting flashes of his time in Hell, and now he had managed to threaten to kill his own nephew. His goddamn teenage orphan nephew who wanted nothing more than to learn about his family because.

"Look, maybe it isn't too late." Bobby leaned forward and watched as Dean pulled his face out of his hands and looked up at the older man. "Go and talk to him. Explain about the kind of witches we Hunt and how you knew nothing about his kind until I explained it to you."

"You think that will work?" Sam turned his puppy dog eyes on his brother, begging him to try. Dean was already on his feet and was pulling on his jacket.

Sam didn't say a word as he rushed after his brother to the Impala. Not a word passed between the siblings as Dean pushed his foot down harder on the accelerator. The car was chaotically pulled into the motel car park and Dean slammed his door shut. Sam watched as he stalked towards the motel office and barge in. It was a tense few minutes until his older brother came back.

"Well?" Sam looked at his brother as he quietly slipped back into the car. "How are we going to go about this? Barging into his room isn't the best idea."

Dean turned to look at his brother and Sam could see the guilt. "He's gone." Dean's voice was quiet and strained. "The guy at reception said he left a while ago."

Sam gaped at his older sibling. "But – I mean –" He took a deep breath. "Ok. So we find him."

"He could be going anywhere. Hell, he could be at the airport right now to get a plane back to England."

"So?" Sam stared his brother down. "We have to try. He is family Dean! His parents are dead, as are his Dad's relatives; his biological grandmother's family were all killed in that car crash and his adoptive relatives couldn't wait to get rid of him. We are all he has left."

Dean stared at his hands for a moment, before looking up at Sam. A determined looked coloured his features. "Yeah, you're right. The reception guy gave me the plate number from his rental." Dean got a smile from his younger brother. "I don't care how long it takes or how far we have to track him down. We will find him."


	3. Chapter 3

The day just couldn't get any slower. Or boring. These were the mid-afternoon thoughts swirling around Lucy's head as she stared at the door, willing customers to come in and buy some goddamn coffee. It was normally busy, because she was the only coffee shop in town. But today was just one of those days where hardly any customers came in. Lucy would normally spend this time catching up on her paperwork, or ordering new supplies or doing the daily cleaning jobs. But all of these jobs had been done hours ago and there was nothing left to do.

Lucy was getting one of her few customers another cappuccino, when the chime above the door sounded. Smiling at the man as she gave him the fresh coffee, Lucy looked up as the new customers made their way towards the counter. They were two men, dressed in suits and ties and both had a look of determination on their face. As they reached the counter, the shorter one gave her a tense, but charming smile.

"Hi." The man met her gaze with green eyes. "I'm Agent Bloom and this is Agent Roeser." Lucy looked behind the green-eyed man and received a nod from the incredibly tall agent.

"We are looking for someone who we believe passed through this town. As you are the only coffee shop in town, we assume that he came here at some point whilst passing through." Lucy's gaze was pulled back to Agent's Bloom's face by a melting smile. She gave the charming Agent a small smile back and gave the FBI badges they showed her the barest of glances.

Lucy was incredibly excited. Not only was this picking up her day immeasurably, it would give her the advantage over all the other women in town. Living in a place so small meant that everyone knew each other and all of their neighbours' personal business. There was no such thing as a private life in such a small town. Lucy had high hopes that these men were tracking down a dangerous criminal on the run from the law. That would give her some juicy gossip and would make her the centre of all the gossiping for _months_.

"Of course, Agents. Anything I can do to help." Lucy simpered. She fluttered her eyelashes at the two handsome Federal Agents, mentally cheering as she was about to get the ultimate gossip. The tall agent pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and gave it to her.

Lucy eagerly took the paper and looked down at it in anticipation. She frowned when she saw the picture on the page. It was a black and white CCTV picture of a teenager. It was a good shot of the kid and showed his face in good detail. It wasn't the picture that startled Lucy, but the person in it.

Lucy recognised the boy in the picture. He had come in first thing that morning, almost as soon as she opened. He told her he was called Harry and that he was passing through town on his way to Chicago. He was such a charming young man, and he had a killer accent. It reminded Lucy of James Bond and when she asked, the teen had explained that he was on a travelling holiday and he came from England. He had such good manners, all traditional and proper, and had answered the millions of questions that Lucy had about England and London.

"Are you sure?" Lucy looked up, confused and saw the two Agents exchange glances. "I mean, yeah he passed through. But there is no way this kid could have done something wrong. Certainly not anything the FBI could want him for!"

"Ma'am." The tall Agent gave Lucy the most adorable puppy dog eyes she had ever seen. "We just need to find him and talk to him. It is all about his safety and wellbeing."

"Is he some kind of runaway?" Lucy felt tears well up in her eyes. That poor boy – he was charming and kind. But Lucy saw that he was sad about something. It made sense if he was a runaway. His family must be so worried – especially if the FBI were involved.

The Agents exchanged glances, and the tall one shifted so he was the one closer to the counter. He leaned down so he was on the same level as Lucy and looked at her with soulful, hazel eyes. His voice was soft. "We can't comment on any details. However, it would be much appreciated if you could give us any information that he let slip about where he might be going next.

Lucy hesitated for a moment, looking at the picture of the teenager again. Lucy knew that she would give the Agents the information she had. She couldn't stand the thought of the nice young man out there on his own, whilst his family was worriedly waiting for news about him. "He said he was going to Chicago. But he left hours ago. He will be a good way there by now."

"Thank you." Lucy could see the sincerity in the Agent's faces as they thanked her and hurried away from the coffee shop, leaving her to ponder what had just happened.

* * *

Harry yawned and rummaged around the last few kernels of popcorn that were left in the container in his lap. Taking a slurp of his very sugary drink, Harry tried to focus on what was happening on the screen in front of him. He hadn't really being following, but he knew that it was some kind of action film, with lots of explosions and car chases or whatever.

Another yawn shuddered through his body as Harry absently rubbed a hand across his side. Harry had reached Chicago and planned to spend a week or two here. It seemed like a nice city, and there was a lot to see. It had been two weeks since his Uncles had decided that they should shoot him because he was Supernatural in nature. Two weeks since Harry had left them without another word. Two weeks since he realised that he was well and truly alone with no family to help, support and …love him.

Harry shook his head of these morbid thoughts and stuffed his emotions back into the box so that they were mentally out of sight. Sure, every moment he spent with Snape was annoying and he would have rather clawed his own eyes out than willingly going to the overgrown bat for private lessons. But Harry knew that he had to learn Occulmensy and, although it took him months, he finally learned to do it. Alongside Occulmensy, Snape insisted that he had to learn Legilimensy so that he would know straight away when someone was probing his mind for information. Harry had never been so thankful of Snape than he was now. His emotions were intense and in turmoil right now and he needed to be rational and calm about it.

Sighing, Harry shoved the last of the popcorn into his mouth and frowned when he realised that he had reached the bottom of the largest bucket the cinema sold. A few years ago, he wouldn't have believed anyone if they told him just how much he would be eating nowadays. Growing up, food had been intentionally made scarce by his not-real-relatives. It had a knock-on effect for years into his teens, but Mrs Weasley always made him eat loads of food and it had helped get him accustomed to eating large meals.

Harry had once questioned the Weasley matriarch about why he always saw Wizards eating lots of food, yet there were few overweight ones. Mrs Weasley had explained that magic was an energy that came from within the body and needed to be maintained. Wizards ate more than the average person because they needed more energy and burned it faster. As a wizard got older, their magic also grew, until they were of age. As for the fat wizards Harry had seen, they either were old (and their magic was getting 'dusty') or they weren't that powerful, so didn't need the extra food they ate. Harry had found it all interesting and now he understood why Mrs Weasley made sure he was fed every few hours. He had grown used to being stuffed with a few extra thousand calories a day now.

Harry polished off his large drink, glad that it was really sugary and looked back at the screen. Harry was just in time to see very last explosion and then the credits began their slow progression down and off the end of the cinema screen. Harry absently stood, rubbing his side as pain began to ache there, and he searched through his messenger bag, making sure that he hadn't lost anything of importance – like his wallet (the Goblins had set it up so that he could get American dollars from it and it was connected straight to his main vault so that it would automatically refill and he could get as much as he wanted) or his mobile phone (Harry had dumped the last phone he had because his Uncles had the number and could track him using it, so he bought himself a new one as soon as he could).

Standing up, satisfied that he had all of his things and closing his bag, Harry slipped amongst the stream of people heading down the central aisle and began to move towards the exit. Harry frowned as another stab of pain ran through his side and he rubbed it tensely. Maybe he shouldn't have had so much popcorn, but he had never eaten it before. The Dursleys had never taken him to the cinema and Wizards didn't have popcorn, for some reason that Harry didn't know.

Harry felt a massive explosion of pain across his side and fell to his knees in pain. His side was throbbing, with burning stabs of pain shooting through his side. Taking a deep breath, Harry almost immediately regretted it as it caused intense pain to spread across his side and caused black spots to appear in hi vision. Harry made sure to take shallow breaths, but it didn't really help the pain blooming around his abdomen. Harry closed his eyes tightly and concentrated on his breathing, ignoring the raised voices and commotion that was happening around him.

* * *

Dean rapidly did his tie up and hurried through the door, closely followed by his brother. The last few days had been hectic as they had closed in on their nephew. They had reached Chicago and had tracked down the rental car he had been using to get there. The guy behind the counter at the car rental shop hadn't even blinked an eye at the FBI badges that they were still using. He had told them that the kid had mentioned staying in one of the upscale hotels towards the centre of Chicago so that he would be close to all the attractions. They had gone to the hotel where the teenager was supposedly staying and had immediately harassed the man at reception.

"_Sir." Dean and Sam flashed their FBI badges and the man behind the desk perked up immediately. "We are looking for a teenage boy that we believe is staying here."_

"_Of course Agents. Anything I can do to help you." The man stood straighter and eagerly looked at the picture that Sam thrust towards him. "Yes, he was staying here. Is he in some kind of trouble? Has he run away from home?"_

_Dean gave the man a hard look. "Sir, we can't comment on open cases. We just need to find him as soon as possible. What do you mean by 'was' staying here?"_

"_Some police came by and got his bags for him yesterday. He has been taken to hospital and was in surgery when they came by. They had managed to get a hotel and room number from him before he was sedated."_

"_Hospital?" Sam exchanged worried looks with his brother. "What was in taken in for?"_

_Dean held his breath as the man answered, hoping to God that it wasn't something supernatural. "He was at the cinema and his appendix burst. At least, that is what the police told me when I asked them."_

_Sam let out a breath in relief. "Did they mention which hospital he was being treated in?"_

That was the reason that the two brothers were hurrying down the corridor towards the ward that they had been told their nephew was currently on. By the time they were finished with the hotel receptionist, it had been too late to go to the hospital, even for FBI agents. Stopping in front of the desk, Dean gave his most charming smile to the middle-aged nurse behind it who was looking over files and folders.

Flashing his badge confidently, Sam addressed the nurse directly. "We are looking for a patient that you have. He came in two days ago with burst appendix."

"Oh yes. Harry." The nurse seemed to know immediately who they were talking about. "He is such a sweet boy. The kindest and most friendly teenager we have had here for quite some time."

"Yes. Could you tell us which room is his?"

The nurse gave a small frown and gently placed the file she was holding on the desk. She looked over the two brothers. "He checked himself out early this morning, despite the doctors complaining that he had key-hole surgery two days ago. He got his prescription for his pain medication and then left. Is he…..is he in some kind of trouble?"

Dean could see the woman's concern and was warmed by it. He was glad that someone in the harsh world was looking out for his nephew. "We can't comment – but we need to find him. For his own safety."

"Why would the FBI be searching for him? You should be out looking for terrorists and serial killers, not some sweet teenager!"

Dean looked at the woman carefully and saw the guarded look in her eyes. Dean was good at reading people – years of Hunting and protecting his brother had ensured that. He could tell when someone was withholding information from him.

"Ma'am," Dean's voice was carefully measured. "I know that you know something about him. Please tell us. We are just trying to help."

The woman hesitated. "I just don't want him to be in any trouble. And the FBI searching for him seems like big trouble!"

Dean leaned closer to the woman. His voice was quiet and filled with emotion. "The thing is, he isn't exactly an FBI case. If anyone were to find out that I'm using my badge for personal reasons, then I could be in a lot of trouble."

"Who is he to you?"

"He is my nephew." Dean held her gaze. "Please, I have to find him. We're all he has left. I need to get him and make sure he is kept safe."

The nurse searched his face carefully and seemed to find what she was looking for. "I'm just about to move from my apartment to a new house that I've bought, but my lease doesn't end until the end of the month. I didn't want him staying in a hotel somewhere, so I'm letting him stay in my house until I move in."

"Thank you." Dean's voice was low, but there was a question there.

The nurse seemed to hear the unasked question in Dean's voice. She gave a sad smile. "I had a son. Harry reminds me of him so much. He is such a sweet and polite young man. My son died a few years ago. He was in a car crash – a drunk driver hit them head-on. He would be Harry's age now." She gave them a sad smile. "Go and find him. And do whatever you can to protect him."

* * *

Sam frowned at his older brother as he subtly picked the lock to the house. They had gone to the address that the kindly nurse had given them and found the street quiet. Before they had got out of the car, the two Hunters had a small but heated argument about how they should go about doing this. Sam had all been for knocking on the door, but Dean was convinced that it would be slammed in their faces. His theory was that once they were in the house, they would have a better chance of explaining themselves.

Sam was still glaring daggers at his brother's back as they silently made their way into the living room. Dean was about to turn around and ask his brother which direction they should go in, when he heard a hissing sound coming from the living room to their left. Pulling his gun from his jacket, Dean made sure it was loaded and slipped into the living room. He looked around for the elusive source of the hissing, when his gun was suddenly dragged out of his grasp. Swearing to himself, Dean was shocked when chains appeared out of nowhere and shackled his feet to the floor. Not more than a second later, chains snaked down from the ceiling and wrapped around his wrists. He swiftly found himself chained by his wrists and ankles, so that he couldn't lift his feet and his arms were raised above his head. His gun dropped in front of him, almost teasing him with how close it was.

"Sammy? You ok?" Dean twisted his head to where his brother was next to him and saw that he was in the same situation. "What the hell is going on? I thou- Holy shit!"

Sam turned his head and saw what his brother was shouting about. The elusive hissing noise was coming from a huge snake that was slivering across the floor towards them. It stopped about three foot away from them and hissed menacingly at them. The two brothers began to struggle against their restraints, but the snake wasn't coming any closer or doing anything.

Dean heard movement in the doorway and turned towards the noise. His nephew – the teenager that they had spent weeks tracking down across America- was stood in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of sleep-pants and a loose t-shirt. Dean saw him walk around so that he was facing the intruders and saw his eyes widen as he saw who it was.

The Hunters' nephew looked at them, before turning to the snake. The brothers' eyes widened when Harry hissed to the snake, which bowed its head and slivered away to another room. Dean was about to ask what the hell was going on, when Harry spoke first.

"What are you doing here?" Harry's voice was strangely emotionless, which surprised the brothers. "I told you that you wouldn't have to see me again, and yet I wake up and find that you have broken in and are trapped in my wards." Harry looked away and asked in strangely detached voice. "What, it isn't enough that you never to see or hear from me again? You have decided to Hunt me down like some kind of monster and kill me?"

"What?" Dean almost shouted. "Why would you think that?"

Harry gave Dean a sarcastic look and pointedly glanced at the loaded gun that was resting in front of Dean's feet. Dean noticed with a sick feeling that it was the same gun that he had pointed at Harry and threatened to shoot him with when he last saw him at Bobby's.

"Harry?" Sam's voice was soft and filled with emotion. Harry looked at him and the brother's saw a flicker of emotion in his intense green eyes. "I want to explain. The witches that we have met have all sold their soul for corrupt, demonic magic. We had no idea about your kind. So, when you mentioned that your people called themselves witches, we jumped to the wrong conclusion. We're sorry. Please, just give us a chance."

Harry stared at them for a long few minutes, before he muttered some more hisses. The two brothers were released and Sam hesitantly took a few steps forward, towards his nephew. But he was stopped by an invisible barrier. He glanced over and saw that Dean had ignored his gun and also had tried to step forward, only to be stopped by the unseen wall.

"You should go." Harry's voice was controlled and soft. "Take your guns and leave. I'll be gone from this city soon and then we'll never have to run into each other ever again. I'm sorry that you have wasted time tracking me down. I –" Harry hesitated. "It was a mistake for me to find you in the first place. I guess that I just wasn't meant to have a family. I would only mess it up and someone would get hurt. That is what happens in my life. Please leave and don't come back."

Sam and his older brother tried to force their way forward, but they were once again stopped by the hidden barrier. Harry gave them one last indiscernible look, before silently leaving the room. Sam looked over at his brother, pain evident across his puppy-dog face, and saw his feelings reflected on his brother's face. The Hunter siblings had the same thought racing through their minds: they had just lost the only other family that they had. And they didn't know how to fix this.


End file.
